


Blood for Blood

by warrenxpath



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bounty Hunters, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Heavy Angst, Hunted!Gabriel, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rogue Angel!Castiel, Sam and Dean hunt Angels, Slow Burn, This Is Some Dark Shit Guys, Torture, Trauma, dark themes, dark!Sam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2020-10-26 14:43:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20743907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/warrenxpath/pseuds/warrenxpath
Summary: Sam and Dean Winchester are hunters. Bounty hunters to be more specific. They are paid and paid well to hunt down angels for those willing to employ them. It’s a fairly straight forward way of life, but a new job proves not to be quite as black and white as originally expected and forces the brothers to finally pick a side.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This work will deal with dark thematic elements. I will make sure to put any trigger warnings in the notes of any chapter that deals especially with these themes. Please enjoy!

Angels were rarities, collectibles. As such, there was money to be made.

Most of the time, Sam was hired to hunt down an angel and bring it back alive. Alive was the only standard. If the angel got a few scars along the way, no one batted an eye. It wasn’t an enjoyable task nor was it completely devoid of pleasure; it was simply a job that had to be done.

But Sam remembered the first time he killed one. The sight struck a chord in him not because of the awe the angel inspired in him or because of the insignificance he felt beside it. No, the most memorable thing about it was the look in the angel’s eyes. The look of something that knew it was facing down Death himself and there wasn’t a thing it could do about it. Sam Winchester, a man who should have been lower than dirt to the likes of them, had made a celestial being feel helpless.

The kill had been just as satisfying. The twist of the blade and the blood that coated his hand as he watched the angel’s grace pour right out of its vessel. The ash of its wings and the undeniable stench of seared flesh.

Sam wished he could say that every kill was like that, exhilarating and frankly addicting. Sadly it wasn’t. Even now as Sam dragged the silver blade down the chest of a particularly mouthy angel, he didn’t feel that adrenaline. It had become a chore, not unlike anything else in his life. When the angel fell to the floor, blood seeping from the gaping hole in its stomach, Sam simply sighed. He wiped his blade and stepped out of the small broom closet of a room. His brother was leaning up against the opposite wall, fiddling with his gun.

“How’d it go?”

Sam strode past him, heading to his room for a change of clothes.

“We have what we need.”

_One Month Previous _

The bar was the way it should be on a typical Friday night, packed and stifling. Sam had always expressed a dislike for the bar atmosphere. There were too many people all there for the same, selfish reasons, and they all set Sam’s teeth on edge. But tonight wasn’t about him or his opinions. Tonight was about a job.

The bar was all shades of red and brown so the white suit was easily distinguishable from the writhing bodies of drunk clientele. Sam navigated through the crowds, taking his time. He wouldn’t apologize for being late; he never did.

When he finally sat down, the man in the white suit turned to him with a sickly sweet grin that Sam didn’t return.

“Samuel, so good of you to join me.”

Sam called to the bartender. He didn’t respond until his drink had been brought to him. He raised the glass to the light, revealing a thin layer of grime, and frowned. “This is a bit cheap for you, isn’t it, Asmodeus?”

Asmodeus shrugged vaguely. His accent seemed even more pronounced in the hazy atmosphere of the bar than Sam had ever heard it. “You refused to meet me in my abode, so I’m meeting you somewhere that might be a bit more...suited to you.”

Sam let the poorly masked insult slide. “I appreciate the courtesy.”

The demon laughed, glancing at his watch. “Clearly you don’t.”

Sam took a swallow of the alcohol. “So what’s this job you called about?”

Asmodeus cleared his throat and pulled himself to his full height as well as he could in a seated position. Sam raised an eyebrow.

“I've lost something that belongs to me—”

Sam scoffed. “Hasn’t everyone.”

The demon cleared his throat again pointedly “And I’m willing to pay handsomely for it to be returned to me in pristine condition.”

Sam frowned at the word “pristine” and turned to meet the demon’s eye. “You do know my brother and I aren’t known for our finesse.”

“That I do,” he laughed dryly. “Nonetheless, you Winchesters are also known for tracking angels and doing it surprising well. I suppose you do have an advantage with that pet angel of yours. What was his name? Cassiel?”

“Castiel,” the hunter corrected. He narrowed his eyes as Asmodeus nodded sagely. He didn’t like how the demon knew about the rogue seraph and his involvement with the Winchesters. Not many did. At least not many still breathing.

“Well,” Asmodeus dragged out the word as if he could tell he’d hit on a sensitive subject. “I need you and _Castiel_ to catch me an angel.”

“Easily done.”

“Oh but this may prove to be a challenge even for the _Winchesters_ with their dull blades and even duller wit.” Asmodeus grinned wildly and leaned in enough for Sam to feel the sticky heat of his breath. “Tell me, son. What do you know about archangels?”

Sam felt the next pull of whiskey burn his throat as it went down. “Enough to know that they’re all dead.”

“Oh, Samuel, you do amuse me.” Except he wasn’t laughing. The demon reached out a hand as if to pat Sam’s shoulder, but the hunter caught it by the wrist and tossed it aside, eyes not moving from their focus on the demon’s left shoulder.

Asmodeus continued as if nothing had happened. “There is still one living archangel, but I understand if you think this is out of your dep—“

“We’ll take the job.” Sam surprised himself with the speed at which the words left his mouth.

Sam’s eyes were unfocused (he told himself he was just taking in the new information), but when Asmodeus smiled, he could clearly see his lips peeling back to show all too white teeth. “Very good.”

~

Once he was back in the quiet of his car, Sam pulled out his phone and dialed Cas’ number. The dial tone came and went twice before someone picked it up, and he couldn’t say he was surprised when it wasn’t the rogue angel but Dean who answered.

“Yeah?” His brother’s voice was gruff as if he’d just woken up or (more likely) as if he’d just had someone else’s tongue down his throat moments before.

“You and Cas have a good time?” Sam hated the bitterness in his tone.

“Shut up, Sammy. What’d you find out?”

“We have a job.”

“Great. I—“

“No, not great,” Sam retorted. “He knew about Cas.”

There was a pause on the other end; Sam could hear faint whispering before a gravelly voice responded. Castiel. “The demon mentioned me?”

“Yeah, man. You’re going to need to keep a lower profile from now on.”

Dean scoffed in the background; he had turned the call to speaker phone. “Lower than he already has?”

Sam sighed, turning his key in the ignition. “I told you this whole thing would be risky.”

Dean swore but Castiel quickly shushed him. “So what about the case?”

“Angel hunt.” Sam said simply, pulling out of the parking lot. His hands clasped the steering wheel tightly.

“Sam, what else?”

Sam took a breath, why was he so damn shaky?

“Sam?”

“Asmodeus said his name’s Gabriel. He’s an archangel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please tell me what you think in the comments. I’m not sure how long this work will be, but it should have a good number of chapters. I will start to work on chapter 2 and get it posted as soon as possible, but it may be a bit because of school *enter not-so-enthusiastic thumbs up* Once again thanks so much for reading :)


	2. Chapter 2

He was weak, barely able to walk. 

He remembered the days when he could be half way across the universe with a single beat of his wings, surrounded by supernovas and planets undiscovered by humans. And now he was a shell of what he had once been, limping from shadow to shadow, wings trailing behind him. 

His body ached. He had tried to heal his vessel but was left with a hollow pit where his grace had once been.

The truth was he was dying.

He was dying and knocking on a door. The door itself didn’t strike him as anything very memorable, but he’d seen it clearly every time he closed his eyes. A grubby, unassuming apartment complex, warded against angels. In any other circumstance, he wouldn’t have been able to come within three miles of the place, but he wasn’t really an angel anymore was he? Not with depleted grace levels and crimson blood pouring from his vessel.

So he knocked. Someone swore on the other side of the door and set down a glass with a clear click. The door opened abruptly with a whine, far from pleased. 

“Whatever you’re selling I—“

The man in the doorway smelled like whiskey and smoke, clearly drunk off his ass, but his voice faded into nothing almost immediately as his eyes set on the man on his threshold, ragged and beaten badly. He fell back a step, shaken.

“Gabriel?”

The archangel coughed weakly, raising his head.

“Hey, Bal. Long time no see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry this is so short and that I haven’t updated for so long. I’ll try to update semi-regularly but sadly I can’t make any promises. Thanks for reading :)


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